


Absence

by SSjUmi



Series: Bennoda = OT4 [2]
Category: Linkin Park
Genre: (yeeeees agaiiiiiiiin I knoooooow), Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, MAWs just got to MAW, Multi, OT4, Polyamory, Relationship(s), at least about this topic, at least here, bennoda, jk let's hope this is it in general, let's all keep out fingers crossed that this is my last new LP fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 06:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11845599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SSjUmi/pseuds/SSjUmi
Summary: They find Mike trying to bribe the bar staff into letting him have the rest of the champagne, yes, that bottle over there please, thank you, wait, what do you mean "no"?Talinda takes a look around and when she's sure no one is looking, she slaps him right in the face.The loud smacking noise has a few people turn their heads, but most of them agree with her and therefor refrain from intervening. Even Anna just frowns.And Mike, he only freezes for a moment before he slowly puts up his hand to his aching cheek. And then he's back to gesturing for that champagne bottle and only stops when Talinda gets a hold of it and pours each of them a glass.





	Absence

**Author's Note:**

> A bit all over the place, style-wise, but that's mostly on purpose.  
> Also unbeta'd, as per usual. Feel free to point out any mistake you catch.
> 
> And yes, ANOTHER post-suicide fic about Mike grieving, but... Well. Duh.  
> It's kind of seeing-ghost's fault though :P
> 
> If you want more LP fic that takes place before Chuz fucked off and happen to understand German, feel free to check out [my fanfiktion.de profile](http://fanfiktion.de/u/Umi) (I'm kind of considering maybe translating one or two of my favs from there and upload them here, but eh. We'll see.)

Brad knows this won't end well the moment Mike lifts his ass off that white sofa and sways slightly before making his way onto the stage.

And he's proven right when Mike, after adjusting the mic to his height, grins at the audience and says: "I told him that, should he ever kill himself, I'd take a crap on his fucking corpse, bury him in my backyard, piss on his grave, and if his kids ever feel like really getting to know the rockstar life, I'll be the one to introduce them to a good dealer. And yet... here we are."

  
*

  
They find Mike trying to bribe the bar staff into letting him have the rest of the champagne, yes, that bottle over there please, thank you, wait, what do you mean "no"?

Talinda takes a look around and when she's sure no one is looking, she slaps him right in the face.

The loud smacking noise has a few people turn their heads, but most of them agree with her and therefor refrain from intervening. Even Anna just frowns.

And Mike, he only freezes for a moment before he slowly puts up his hand to his aching cheek. And then he's back to gesturing for that champagne bottle and only stops when Talinda gets a hold of it and pours each of them a glass.

  
*

  
"Talinda, are you sure this is a good-"  
"Jesus Christ, Ryan, just let me enjoy the one thing I'm actually looking forward to being allowed again, now that he's gone."

Mike grins. "Cheers to that."

They ignore Ryan's frown and clink glasses, but before Mike can even take a sip Anna shows up from seemingly nowhere, in one swift motion replaces her husband's champagne with a glass of water, places one kiss on his cheek, one on Talinda's, and is gone again before Mike, who's high on fever meds and therefor slow to react, even has a chance to protest.

Ryan tries again. "How are you not mad at him?"  
Talinda sighs, the weak smile caused by Anna's kiss still hanging on her lips. "Oh, I am mad at him. But mostly because of his language."  
Now it's Mike's turn to frown. " _He_ is right _here_. _He_ can hear you... And _he_ wants you to know that Chester fucking loved hearing him swear."  
"Yeah, but not in front of the kids."  
"..."  
"I also doubt he would've appreciated you offering to become their middle man to score drugs. Or that part where you hit on his mom."  
"Yeah, well, if he really cared that much he would've stayed around to stop me."

 

Silence.

 

Suppressed sniffeling.

  
"Mike..."

But he just shakes his head, slips off the bar stool and makes his way to the bathroom on unsteady legs, with Brad following him to make sure he doesn't get lost.

Ryan opens his mouth but closes it again when Talinda murmurs a bitter "He does have a point, though, you know..." and downs her glass in one go.

  
*

  
It's about a year earlier and 3 in the morning when he calls and when Mike answers his phone with a sleepy "Huh?" all he says is "I want you to come over and fuck me."

Mike tries to keep his thoughts together, tries to be responsible, sensible, not seem to eager, but he's out of bed within seconds and already halfway done getting dressed before he even manages to get out a weak "You sure?"  
"Yeah."  
"Are you... are you okay?"  
"... eh. Could be worse. So... you coming?" The teasing undertone and raspy, almost feral sound of his voice are already enough to get Mike hard. "Preferably inside of me... yeah, I think I'd like that..."

Mike gulps heavily, almost tripping over his own feet and dropping his car keys. "I, uh, I'm on my way. We'll see about the fucking when I'm there, though... We don't have to... That's not why I'm... I'm coming because I'm concerned. I... I'm on my... I, uh, give me half an hour."

And he makes it to Chester's place within twenty minutes.

  
*

  
He's already waiting for him, leaning to the frame of the open front door, and grabs him by the collar as soon as he's close enough, their lips clash, teeth briefly colliding, and Mike tastes cigarettes and whiskey but also Chester, mostly Chester, and even though it's obvious something is off he can't help but softly moan and shove his friend against the nearest wall.

He promises himself to stop any moment and turn into a good friend again.  
Just... just one more second... or two... fuck, he's been dreaming of this for an eternity...

His hands slip underneath Chester's shirt, greedily taking in every inch of his smooth warm skin, the way his ribcage moves with each and every shuddery breath, and he feels dizzy when his thumb brushes one of Chester's nipples and he hears a soft gasp.

  
They're already in bed, shirts long since gone, still kissing, Mike's fingers shakily fumbling with Chester's belt, his own pants discarded on the floor, when Chester opens his eyes and looks up at him in wonder.  
"Wow... you really _do_ want me..."  
And the genuine surprise beneath the raspy breathlessness of his voice, it makes something inside of Mike crack.  
Probably his heart.

It takes him a moment to force out a whispered "I do..." followed by another three words, but those get drowned out by Chester telling him where he keeps the lube.

  
*

  
Mike tries to be gentle - mostly for his own conscience - but Chester keeps urging him to stop holding back, threatens to kick him in the balls and leave his band if he won't just finally fuck him _goddammit_.

And so he does.

And Chester's reaction, his swearing and moaning and the way his knuckles turn white as he buries his fingers in the bed sheets, it all surpasses even his wildest imagination, and at least for the moment it's easy to ignore the half empty whiskey bottle on the bedside table.

He knows he's selfish.  
But so is Chester, using him to hurt himself. Or fix himself. Or just distract himself. Or whatever.

They're idiots and will regret it later.

But right now Mike doesn't care, and neither does Chester, because their hearts beat so fast and heavy and the world beyond this bedroom, beyond each other's touch and their moans, it doesn't exist anymore.

  
*

  
They don't tell their wives.

Mike because he's ashamed of having taken advantage of his best friend and because after they fucked, he was the one to grab that whiskey bottle and take a generous swig from it and what if it was his fault that Chester felt the need to open a new bottle after that, because what little he left wasn't enough for him to fall asleep?

And Chester stays silent because he's afraid to be told that maybe, just maybe, that thing between the four of them - that thing between _Mike_ and him - isn't as healthy as they like to pretend. At least not for him.  
At least not when they're alone.

He's not mad at him, though.  
He's thankful.  
Because Mike doesn't judge him, Mike doesn't force him to talk, doesn't feel the need to remind him that he's supposed to be sober - as if he could ever forget that - but instead just. Stays. And enjoys his company and kisses him and hugs him, still _likes_ him, even though he's drunk and louder and more obscene than usual and quick to hiss insults when things don't go his way, and is generally everything he doesn't want to be.

His ass hurts and even though he knows it's dumb, he feels dirty.

Disgusted with himself for still wanting more.  
Cursing the one who ruined this for him 30 years ago.

He takes another swig of whiskey, smokes another cigarette and goes down on Mike, to prove himself how okay and long past the demons of his past he is, and when Mike kisses him afterwards, not minding the cum on his lips, he can't help but be a bit disgusted with Mike, too. And smiles.

  
*

  
Lyrics session, a few weeks down the road.

"No, Mike, you don't understand like... just how _loud_ it can get. It's... It's like... All that stuff in my head keeps piling up and... it's like a dozen versions of myself are shouting at me at once, weighing me down, and the noise is just... the noise is _crushing_."

And Mike nods and does his best, but all he understands is that sometimes it's hard to function for his best friend. That he has an actual problem with being by himself for too long. That it's good he's in therapy.

He doesn't understand the feeling described to him itself though. Not really.

And Chester is glad for that.  
And only resents him a little for it.

  
*

  
Chester is dead and Anna, Mike and Talinda flee the city, the country, the continent and spend the week in a 5-star-hotel near the ocean.

They try their best to enjoy themselves. At least most of the time. At least sometimes.

They're at the beach and while Talinda helps Anna with the sunscreen, Mike just gets up and walks into the water and only stops when there's no ground beneath his feet anymore.

He's not a great swimmer but briefly considers just going on nonetheless, just to see what happens.

  
He doesn't, though.

  
Just turns around, swims back to where he can stand, walks back to the beach, past his wife and friend, towards the hotel, into their room, falls onto the bed, buries his face in the pillow and screams until he's out of breath.

  
*

  
It gets easier and at the same time doesn't.

The dynamic between them has been thrown off-balance and even though they still care for each other deeply, being together reminds them of their loss just as much as it helps.

Talinda likes not feeling guilty anymore when she has a glass of wine or two with her friends. And there's also a part of her that still agrees with Mike about how Chester lost his right to have an opinion on fucking anything when he left them like that. She's bitter and feels betrayed. And lost. And sad, mostly sad.

Anna misses her friend, the way his attention was always on her and only her when they talked, how good he was at listening and how genuinely happy he was for her whenever something good happened, and how gentle and understanding when something went wrong. Most of the time she manages to smile when thinking of him, though, and successfully ignores how empty his absence makes her feel.

Mike forgot how to stop after a glass or two of wine, having grown dependent on that soft dizzy warmth of the alcohol and the ability to fall asleep without tossing and turning around in bed for hours.  
He still can't talk about Chester, not really. Not that there's much to say anyway.  
Not like he has any right to give in to his grief in general. With Talinda around, having it much worse than him.  
They never made their relationship public. She's Chester's wife, widow, he is - was - just... a friend. Almost lover, kind of, probably, but not quite. She's the one who deserves all the comfort. Not him.

He's okay most of the time. Or so he'd say if you asked him.

Only sometimes, when his brain tries to comprehend what "dead" really means, does it feel like all air is getting knocked out of his lungs and his chest gets so heavy, he can barely move anymore.  
He avoids getting hugged because it only makes him cry and the only one whose hug would offer any comfort is gone and will never come back.  
And he's still angry over that, so fucking angry...

And so he keeps functioning as well as he can, puts all his energy into appreciating their vacation and his company during the day, and drinks a bottle of wine every night just to be able to fall asleep.

  
*

  
Back in L.A. they move in together for a while, kids and all, and Anna realizes she forgot how it felt like to live in a house where no room is unoccupied.

Talinda and her get back into the habit of casually kissing and, when the kids are in bed or school, making out with each other, which is nice, since Mike is still not really into more than the occasional peck on the lips or brief cuddling - not even with her. She understands and respects his boundaries, of course she does, but she's thankful for Talinda's needs matching her own a little more.

She still misses sex, though. And she'd love for the three of them to share a bed.  
But none of them is up for talking about their relationship more than absolutely necessary, herself included, so nothing happens.

  
*

  
The night Mike tries to "upgrade" to two bottles of wine to help him sleep, it's Talinda who gently caresses his back while he's bent over the toilet, puking his guts out, and who puts her arms around him when he's done, careful to not put any pressure on his stomach, and he just buries his face in her shoulder and sobs.

And when he tells her - slightly slurring, his voice shaking, cracking - what he never managed to tell Chester, she just nods and promises him that he knew, and they sit there and hold each other and cry for what feels like forever.

  
*

  
On a whim, he anonymously buys the house Chester hung himself in.

He could've just asked Talinda and she would've let him have it, but he didn't know how and now he has $2.500.000 less on his bank account and a house he doesn't know what to do with. At least that's what he tells Anna when she finds out. And shrugs and avoids her gaze.  
No, he really doesn't know why he did it.  
All he knows is that he didn't want anyone else to buy it.

Talinda just stares at him when they tell her.

And finds herself relieved he doesn't fight her decision to not let him have the keys anytime soon.

  
*

  
It's 19 years ago and this skinny kid with his way too big jacket and way too loose pants grins at that other skinny kid who also almost drowns in his baggy clothes.

They've only known each other for a few days but Chester is already sure he's never before met anyone who curls up and almost chokes on his own laughter the way Mike does over his dumb jokes and lame attempts at friendly flirting.

And Mike, he doesn't give a shit how long they've known each other, he already loves this weird dude from Arizona who sounds like a teenager when he talks and like an animal when he sings, who doesn't question him when he says he wants a Grammy and instead just asks "why only one?", and relishes the way he always looks at him like he can't quite believe that he's real, with that small absent smile on his lips.

  
A week down the road, and Chester moves in with him, sleeping on his couch, and they spend whole nights just talking and laughing and fantasizing about their future rockstar life, and sometimes Mike's girlfriend is there, too, and it feels like home.

  
*

  
It's 16 years ago and they're drunk and high in a hotel room who-knows-where and Mike hugs him and tells him he can't imagine his life without him anymore, and not just because of the band but because... just because.  
Chester laughs it off but there are tears in his eyes because he, on the other hand, would very much love a life without himself in it.  
Just because.

  
*

  
It's 12 years ago and they don't talk to each other for weeks and Chester hasn't left his house - has barely even left his closet - for days, while Mike is on the other end of the country at a fancy rooftop party, his arm around his wife, toasting to Jay-Z and Beyoncé, and smiling so brilliantly even those who don't like his band or his music can't help but smile back and accept that he belongs with them.

And later that night, when Chester falls down the stairs on his way to the kitchen and cries when he realizes he just broke his wrist but not his neck, Mike is having his first panic attack since teenage days when he wakes up from a nightmare in which it _was_ the neck and it takes him several minutes to even realize where he is.

  
*

  
It's a few months later and Mike is getting off stage, the adrenaline and cheers from the crowd still rushing through his veins, when Anna throws a towel in his face and tells him how great he was but he just stares past her with wide eyes and when she turns around there is Chester with a woman they've never seen before by his side.

He introduces her as his fiancée and kisses her and they look at each other as if they were the only people in the world.

Anna and Mike look at each other, too. With raised eyebrows, though, pitying the girl, giving them half a year at most, maybe less, probably less.  
Most likely less.

But they're nice to her, because after all it's not her fault, and quickly discover that they like her, too.

It's a shame, really, that there's no way this will last.

  
*

  
It's 10 years ago and it still lasts and Mike dares to hope again that maybe, just maybe, Talinda won't call him one day to tell him that Chester drunkenly broke his neck or drove his car off a cliff or fucking hung himself.

  
*

  
It's been two months since he left them and they're in Disneyland.

Anna holding Talinda's hand and Talinda holding Mike's, none of them having a clue where their kids took off to. They trust them to keep an eye on each other, though, so it's alright.

They're still grieving but at least for the moment they manage to enjoy their time together.

Sometimes they consider being open about that relationship they don't really bother hiding anymore anyway. About what they have now and also what they used to have. But Talinda doesn't feel ready yet to deal with people poking around in her private life more than they already do on social media, and Mike would rather chew off his own leg than grant a certain kind of fans the satisfaction of "having known all along that they were more than friends".

  
Talinda is looking up houses for her family, preferably not too far away from her friends - partners - but neither too close. She loves them and she knows they love her, too, but she can't imagine living together in the long run. Also she and the kids are missing their pets, horses and goats and chickens and all. She still hurts. Still feels incomplete. How could she not. But she's recovered enough to be sure she will manage somehow - and it's not like she had much of a choice anyway.

Anna knows she'll miss Talinda but she's also glad to soon have the number of kids running through her house screaming cut in half. She looks forward to writing again. Like, novel writing, not writing letters to a dead friend who will never read them, although she will probably keep that up, too, because it helps.

And Mike, he has agreed to maybe consider seeing a grief counselor or therapist if things don't get better within the next couple of weeks. He's not yet sure if he will really follow through with it or maybe just fake having gotten better, but the option is on the table and it seems to mean a lot to Anna. Also there are his children, his parents, the remains of his band and other friends he barely speaks to anymore to consider, so... there's that.

  
The weather is lovely. Sunny. Not too hot but not too cold, either.

Mike's smile has lost a bit of its brilliance but it's genuine when Talinda gently squeezes his hand to get him to pay attention to her and Anna who need his input on whether or not they should have hotdogs before or after screaming their lungs out on the roller coaster.  
He needs to think about it for a while, but then agrees with Anna that they should take the risk and eat first, because his stomach is grumbling and he is bad at making good decisions when he's hungry.

Their kids laugh at them when they stumble out of that ride later, feeling sick.

It's an undeniably beautiful day and it hurts that he's not with them.

  
*

  
It's half a life ago and Brad just shakes his head and smiles and Chester's eyes go wide and it's tingling in his chest and stomach when Mike announces him as the new singer of their band and throws his arm around his shoulders and proclaims that this is the start of something big.

Something life-changing.

  
*

  
Chester left and Mike doesn't know how to go on.

 

He tries anyway.

 

They all do.

 

 

 

 


End file.
